We Shouldn't Keep Meeting Like This
by XWingAce
Summary: Stargate SG1 Doctor Who 2005 crossover. Who is the stranger that keeps popping up in Jack O'Neill's life? Complete
1. Chapter 1

**We shouldn't keep meeting like this.**

A Stargate SG-1/Doctor Who crossover. Who is the strange visitor that keeps popping up in Jack O'Neill's life?

_Disclaimer:_ I own neither Stargate SG-1 nor Doctor Who, and I never will. I'm just having a little fun, no harm meant. Please don't sue. I don't have the money anyway.

_Credit where credit is due:_ This fic would not exist without Shadows Dancing, and is dedicated to her. But without my fantastic betas, first of which is Margaret Price, this fic would not be the fic it is now. Margaret rubbed it in thatI still have much to learn when it comes to writing. :-). Without Sophie and Isobel, however, the Stargate universe would be unrecognisable from the one in the show, and I owe them much thanks for keeping me on the straight and narrow canon-wise.

Like I said, I still have much to learn in writing. If you see someplace I could improve, or if you think I did something particularly well, don't hesitate to tell me. You can leave a review or email me at xwingace (at) gmail (dot) com.

Right, enough rambling, on with the story. Enjoy,

XWingAce

**--**

**1988, Earth, United States, Montana. **

Captain Jack O'Neill knew he wasn't supposed to question orders. Even if he _was_ in the Special Forces, where you were expected to think for yourself, he was still in the military. Yet sometimes he wondered what drugs his commanding officers were taking. Who in their right mind would use three crack Special Forces units to guard a quarter of a square mile of pine forest? And that on orders from some UN people who hadn't identified themselves further.

Jack could see, in the middle distance, three people emerging from a blue box. _Where did that come from?_ He watched as the newcomers headed over to the higher ranking officers who seemed to be waiting for them. After a short discussion, two of the new arrivals separated from the group and headed in Jack's direction. A little later, the third member of the group followed the others.

Jack stopped the first individual, a youngish man in a truly ridiculous outfit, who coldly reprimanded the officer in some near incomprehensible British accent before stalking off. A blonde woman perhaps in her early twenties was following behind him and gave Captain O'Neill a weak smile before walking past. Not wanting to start an international incident by shooting the pair, Jack let them go. He turned in time to see a third mandressed in fatigues heading his way, apparently following the first two. As he drew nearer, the Captain noticed that, while he was fully armed, he wore no name tag or insignia of rank.

Captain O'Neill therefore felt fully justified in detaining and questioning a soldier. Not that he had much luck getting any answers. At first, the soldier seemed annoyed at being detained, only to suddenly flash a huge grin and wrap his arm around O'Neill's shoulder. "What you do, Jack, is watch and learn. You make sure nobody else from out _here_ gets in _there_," he said, stabbing a finger in the air to make his point. "And nothing from in _there_ gets out _here _except for us, and you leave the rest to the professionals. Okay? Now I got to go. See ya."

Then the extraordinary individual gave O'Neill a slap on the shoulder and ran off in pursuit of the two civilians, leaving Jack marveling and wondering how he knew his name. When he came to his senses enough to look around at his own men, he saw several of them grinning at him. He grumpily ordered them to stay alert, and resumed his own watch.

Ten minutes later, _something_ came rushing out of the branches. All the soldiers of his squad opened fire simultaneously. Still, the…whatever-it-was, ran a hundred yards through a hail of bullets before it fell. Soon after, everyone had to evacuate because the pines had caught fire and the blaze was spreading.

Afterwards, the men in all three squads were told to forget the incident ever happened. But everyone remembered the big forest fire that year.

**--**

**1998, PTT-112**

Even interplanetary travel could get routine if you did it often enough, Colonel O'Neill thought. This must have been the thirtieth planet in as many weeks. There seemed to be a pattern to these places. Either there were Goa'uld trying to kill them, ruins of some long degenerated civilization, or some seemingly innocent locals who would receive the team with an arbitrary degree of hostility. This particular location was of the abandoned ruins variety. This meant that Daniel Jackson, their linguist and resident archeologist, was happily filming the apparently fascinating engravings, while the more military members of the team were getting bored.

The distraction they got this time, however, wasn't entirely what Colonel O'Neill had anticipated. He expected the odd attack by locals enraged that the team had disturbed a sacred site. Or a squad of Jaffa attacking the intruders that had come through the reactivated Gate. Now that, he reflected, was almost as much a part of the routine as the Gate travel itself. But a single, apparently human figure doing his own exploration of the most interesting—according to Daniel, that is—part of the ruins was the last thing anyone expected.

Jack ordered the SG-1 team to encircle the interloper. Before they could complete the circle, however, the stranger looked up. As he did this, he looked straight at the Colonel, who thought he looked strangely familiar. He was about 6 feet tall, with short dark hair. The clothes he was wearing clearly had seen better days, but they were of a similar cut to those his own team wore. Jack could clearly see the man's expression change from surprise to shocked disbelief. He also thought he could just make out the stranger's words. "Not you again!"

Suddenly the stranger twisted round, found the gap in the incomplete encirclement, and ran like hell. He was in remarkable shape. Not even Teal'c had been able to catch him, despite the fact that the Jaffa had dropped all non-essential gear. The stranger, on the other hand, had been carrying a full pack and something resembling a skateboard. He seemed to have vanished into thin air; all attempts at tracking him down were fruitless.

Major Carter and Daniel investigated the part of the ruins the stranger had escaped from. According to Daniel, it had probably been a communications center of some sort. Carter noticed that something had been expertly removed from the base of a pedestal. Other components were hanging out, half loose, as if the stranger had been trying to get more out when he was interrupted.

When the team returned to the Gate four hours later,they found that it had been activated, but when they checked with Stargate Command, there was had no record of any unauthorized openings of the Gate on their side.

The paperwork and red tape that followed _really_ had not been fun.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue.

**1999, Earth, United States, Colorado.**

Calling a halt to alien invasions had been an integral part of Stargate Command's mission statement from day one. Still, no one expected a spaceship to suddenly land right on top of Cheyenne Mountain, the SGC's home base. But one did.

The base had gone on full alert as soon as an unauthorized flyover was reported. Radar footage gave a rough indication of the location where the offending craft had landed. When troops arrived to surround it, however, there ended up being a lot of embarrassed standing around and looking for something _to_ surround. That was when a hatch opened, seemingly in mid-air, and someone definitely human came out, although he was not exactly dressed to modern standards. When he saw the waiting cordon, he waved cheerfully and started to climb down. He was wearing very little: sandals, a weird hat and an oversized tee-shirt belted at the waist. Nothing else. Colonel O'Neill was standing almost directly beneath the descending stranger and got an exceptionally good view of the man's proof of humanity.

"So, what mental hospital did he escape from?" Jack asked of no one in particular. By the looks of the people around him, he was giving voice to the thoughts of just about everyone else.

"A Roman one, by the looks of it**." **Daniel remarked unhelpfully. The commotion had been enough to draw even Danny away from his squiggles. As Stargate Command's greatest linguistic expert, he had been allowed on the site to act as a translator, should one be needed.

"Huh?" was the only response Jack O'Neill could manage. Thankfully, Danny didn't really need any more than that.

"Loose tunic, sandals and the cap. He's dressed like a freedman from ancient Rome."

"You happen to know _why_, too?"

"Beats me."

The stranger had reached solid ground by this time and swept the cap off his head in a grandiose bow. "Thank you, thank you. No applause necessary. Hope you enjoyed the show."

Jack thought this lunatic looked familiar. He was certain he'd met him before, but could not recall where.

Finally, someone remembered that they were supposed to be arresting him. Once they got up close, it was obvious that their captive was rather dirty. He appeared to be covered with something like dust or ash. So, before any kind of interrogation could take place, he was allowed to shower and change into some more appropriate and less revealing attire.

The base doctors had demanded that they be allowed to carry out a medical exam on the 'alien' visitor. The man was all smiles and jokes, shamelessly flirting with every female in sight throughout the exam. These antics were observed by Colonel O'Neill from behind a one-way mirror. He thought he saw the patient checking out some of the male guards as well. Jack wrote it off as his prisoner trying to judge his possibilities for escape. Which were nil, as far as everyone on the base was concerned.

Then, at last, the interrogation. As second in command of the SGC, Colonel O'Neill had appointed himself chief interrogator. When he entered the room, the captive noticed his rank, which seemed to finally draw the man's attention to the seriousness of the situation. He stopped talking to his guards, at least. Every word the intruder had said since entering the base had been recorded, but so far, none of it had been especially interesting. He had said nothing about who he was, where he came from, or how he had gotten there. He had just engaged everyone in incessant small talk. The Colonel, on the other hand, was greeted with silence.

This gave Jack the time to really study the stranger closely; from his short dark hair to his muscular build that was clearly evident beneath the tee-shirt he now wore. He reminded the Colonel of a 1940's movie star.

The stranger noticed Jack's scrutiny and seemed to find his sense of humor again. "Like what you see?"

Suddenly, O'Neill realized that he _did_ recognize this guy. The way he was dressed now only reinforced that fact, and his arrogance clinched it. It was the same man who had casually dismissed the professionalism of the then _Captain_ O'Neill and his squad of Special Forces troops. "Not really, no," O'Neill replied blandly. "So, how'd you like getting caught by the _real_ professionals?"

The other man looked surprised. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"You go around causing forest fires a lot?" Jack saw his prisoner's expression close up, becoming a poker face. _Gotcha!_

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, Colonel, but if I did that, I'm sure I had a pretty good reason."

"Who are you?"

"Jack Harkness, Captain, 4553610-S-57-C-5124," came the immediate reply.

"That's not a valid service number." Of course, the Colonel knew that someone would already be running the name through every available database.

"Maybe it isn't, and maybe it is," Captain Jack said guardedly. "I'm sure you think you'll know more about me than I know about myself in about ten minutes." His poker faced expression did not change.

"You can bet on it. So, a Captain, huh? Of what?"

Silence.

"Why did you come here? Why were you dressed like you just came from the streets of Rome?" Harkness' eyes flickered momentarily. _Hah!_ O'Neill thought. He'd gotten through the poker face! But it was only to change into that annoying grin again.

"I'm impressed, Colonel. I didn't think my dress sense would be so instantly recognizable. You really should try it. Very refreshing."

"Didn't look too fresh to me."

"Yes, well, that'll teach me to stay close to a volcano for too long." Harkness looked up at the clock and sat back nonchalantly. "Oh, look at that. Time to go. Thanks for the shower, Colonel O'Neill. I needed that. Could've done with a meal as well, but hey, you can't have everything, right? Bye." And with that, he was gone. Just like that.

Jack sat staring at the empty seat for several seconds. He had a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach, anticipating the reports he'd have to fill in about this. That would probably take him from now until doomsday. Could Apophis invade now, please?

He almost thought he had gotten his wish when the alarms started blaring. But it turned out that the strange craft that had brought Jack Harkness had taken off again **— **and disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue.

**1999, rapidly heading away from Earth… **

Captain Jack Harkness patted the bulkhead of his ship, as if to thank her for getting him out of captivity so effortlessly. He allowed himself a grin as he imagined the face of poor Colonel O'Neill as his captive suddenly vanished into thin air. Hallelujah for emergency teleports! Of course, Jack really had appreciated the shower and new clothes. The personnel in the facility, however, had been far to uptight to make the thought of an extended stay appealing. Besides, he had only just finished one con, and hadn't had the time to prepare another one, so there was no profit to be had in staying longer.

His intentions for landing in that particular spot had been simple. A hot shower, a change of clothes, and a meal. The facilities for these three luxuries were rather limited on his ship. After all the shenanigans, he still had not gotten the meal. His scanner had indicated that he had landed in a sparsely populated area within reach of a city. Obviously, that was completely wrong. He was going to have to upgrade that thing ASAP, he thought. It seemed the only way it still picked up any technology was if it was sitting right out in the open broadcasting, "I am a piece of highly advanced technology, please, come get me." –or maybe not even then. That definitely needed fixing--and soon.

But first, food. And if he did have to travel to get a decent meal, he might as well get a great one. As he recalled, thirty-third century Titan had particularly good seafood. Maybe he should try that. After all, one couldn't do decent upgrades on an empty stomach.

--

**Whenever, wherever. (2001, Abydos) **

Finally, a world where he spoke the language and, better yet, where they served alcohol! The only variety on Satellite 5 had been intended for cleaning. As much as Jack Harkness had wanted to get blind drunk and forget that awful sound of the TARDIS leaving, he had not wanted to drunkenly get blind. So, unfortunately, that was out.

Still, the enforced sobriety had allowed Captain Jack to eventually cobble together something that would get him off the station, possibly even back in time. Back to London, sometime in the early twenty-first century. Rose's mother and friends lived there. The Doctor was bound to take her back there. Jack had only just started to travel—well, time-travel—with the enigmatic alien who called himself the Doctor. And Rose. The pretty, lively young woman who had already been traveling with him. She seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble. Come to think of it, so did the Doctor, who seemed to save the Earth as a sort of hobby. But the mere thought of facing the future without his friends hurt and Jack was determined to find them again.

There was one hope. The Doctor had left the extrapolator behind, a handy little device they had confiscated from an alien who meant to use it as an emergency means to escape Earth. Of course, they had also planed on destroying the Earth in the process in order to generate enough power for the device to operate. It was simple enough to use. Just program the coordinates into the extrapolator, generate a large enough shockwave, and you could surf through interdimensional space to wherever you wanted, safely protected by an immensely powerful force field. This meant that Jack could travel, as long as he could generate a big enough shockwave to open a dimensional rift. Or he could use one of the old-fashioned transmat pads that were still used at some points in the station. Essentially, they opened a small portal in the space/time vortex, sending the occupant over to the pad at the receiving point. Since he was the only one left on the entire station, alive at least, Jack had scrapped several of the transmat pads and a few of the backup communications systems. He hoped that when these components were attached to the extrapolator, they would make a time ship. A laughable one compared to the Doctor's TARDIS. Then again, any time ship would be laughable compared to that miracle. Shaped on the outside like a Police Telephone Box, the inside much larger and a veritable maze of surprises. Even the Chula ship that he had sacrificed to a Nazi bomb was millions of times better than the contraption he had cobbled together. But hey, it was a vehicle capable of traveling in space and time, and that was all that mattered.

The only problem was that the extrapolator had not been designed for time travel. Oh, it worked well enough. In the space/time vortex, time was just another coordinate. Fiddling with the temporal axis did lead to the actual problem. Unless you had an extremely powerful computer, you just wouldn't know _where_ the spatial coordinates were pointing. He'd been lucky enough to end up on a planet every single time. Even luckier that they were planets with a breathable atmosphere. For the past six jumps, however, that was all the luck Jack had had. None of the available food had been compatible with a human metabolism. And when there were people on the planet, he had not spoken the language. How he longed for his long lost universal translator.

Jack's ultimate goal was to reach planet Earth, preferably in the early twenty-first century. But after almost a week of nothing to drink but water and hardly anything to eat, the current hell-hole in which he found himself at least served something he could eat. Better still, alcohol he could _drink_. It almost seemed like heaven. Then the enormity of the haystack he was trying to find a TARDIS-shaped needle in reasserted itself before he had the chance to drink himself into a blind stupor. At the rate he was going, he probably had more chance of finding a specific grain of sand in that desert outside the city than of reuniting himself with the Doctor and Rose. No, it was definitely time to get well and truly drunk.

Within a short time, Captain Jack Harkness was well beyond his normal limit, and going strong. Getting drunk had not even been easy on the watered-down concoction that passed for beer. Strangely enough—to the inebriated Jack, anyway—the locals had left him alone. His usual advances, regardless of gender, had been met with disgust and a few hostile looks, but no further action.

Jack spotted two men entering the tavern. One had the look of a typical local, which meant he looked vaguely Middle-Eastern. Strange how those designations held, even in Jack's original time, when people of all descriptions lived pretty much wherever they wanted. He was older than most of the regulars, though. The other man was younger, with uncharacteristically light hair, the locals all being dark. The older man spotted Jack, indicating him to the younger man, who looked over at the intoxicated Captain. _Well, how about that?_ Jack thought happily. _I've become a tourist attraction_. He stood up as best he could, grinned and waved. Even in his drunken state, Jack realized that the younger man looked out of place. What was it? Well, he would soon find out as the man in question had spotted him and was coming over. Ah,yes. The newcomer not only had lighter hair, his facial structure was completely different. More Western, another definition that had long lost any basis in fact. Also, his robes didn't have nearly so much sand and dust on them as those of the people around him. When he finally came close enough, Jack smiled again and introduced himself

"Hello, Captain Jack Harkness. Nice to meet you," he slurred, holding out a hand to the newcomer.

The other man slowly took the extended hand, but did not return the smile. Instead, he gave Jack a confused look. After a few seconds of silence, he seemed to remember that he was still holding Jack's hand, and had not introduced himself.

"Oh, uh, Daniel Jackson."

Jack wrapped his arm around Daniel's shoulder, feeling the man flinch slightly. Was he that shy? His slowness in introducing himself did seem to indicate that.

"Well, Daniel, you don't look like you belong here any more than I do. So, why don't you let one outsider buy another outsider a drink? And then we'll take it from there."

"You're drunk already, Captain," Daniel rejoined. "I don't think you need more."

Not so shy then, Jack observed. "It's not about getting me drunk, Goldilocks." Jack tried to grin engagingly, without much success. "I know I'm drunk. This is about _you._ So, what'll you have? Beer? Or beer?" This time he succeeded in grinning, albeit less than engagingly.

Daniel gingerly extricated himself from the shoulder hold that seemed on the verge of becoming a bear hug. "That's not such a good idea, Captain. You've really had enough."

"There's no such thing."

Instead of answering that remark, Daniel nodded to two people who had taken up a position behind Jack. Suddenly, they were standing uncomfortably close, even for Jack, and an alarm went off in his head.

"I think you'd better come with me, Captain." Daniel's voice had suddenly taken on an authoritative edge. "I know some people who would definitely be interested to see you."

"What?" Jack was trying to answer the alarm in his alcohol numbed brain.

The men who were behind him were suddenly beside him and had taken him by the arms. The next thing he knew, he was being gently but resolutely removed from the tavern. "Hey, I can take 'no' for an answer, you know? You just had to say."

Jack's only reply was silence.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue.

**--**

**2001, Earth, United States, Colorado.**

Colonel Jack O'Neill came running into the Gate room. With the base's regular commander, General Hammond, away at the Pentagon, O'Neill had been left in charge—and responsible should anything go wrong. Daniel had only left for Abydos a few hours ago. Nobody had expected him to be back so soon. Still, the Gate had been activated from off world. Guards stood by with weapons at the ready, just in case the arrival was not Dr. Jackson.

When SG-1's archeologist stepped out of the vortex, there was a relief of tension that immediately picked up again when several more people followed after him. First came two Abydonians who were carrying some sort of contraption between them. Behind them were two more guards who had a man between them with a familiar, if unexpected, face.

"I'll be damned," Jack O'Neill said under his breath. Daniel came over to him while soldiers relieved all the Abydonians of their burdens. "So, how'd you conjure that one, Daniel?"

Daniel gave a small smile. The Abydonians, whom he knew intimately, had told him all they knew. It was a bit of a coup for him to have the intelligence on someone for a change. "According to Kasuf, he arrived three days before I did," he replied. "They thought he might have been one of ours. That's why they informed me. They found that…mechanism at about the same time I found him." He waved a hand at the object that had been carried with them before indicating the captive, who had, a little over a year ago, managed to vanish from the SGC without a trace. "He claims it's his."

"You actually got him to admit to something?" the astonished Jack said. When last he saw him, Captain Harkness had not been all that communicative. At least, not when it came to details about himself. He had been more that happy to chatter on about absolutely nothing until the cows came home. "Maybe I should let _you_ handle the interrogation, Dr. Jackson," O'Neill joked.

Daniel fidgeted for a second and cast his eyes down before replying, "It wasn't that hard. He was drunk."

"Still is, by the looks of him."

Harkness was indeed unsteady on his feet. Not that this stopped him from taking in the Gate room with marked interest while the guards were escorting him out. Seeing this, the Colonel said, "You think maybe you should have blindfolded him?"

"Huh?" Daniel raised his eyebrows in surprise and then cleared his throat. "I…uh, never thought of it. Sorry."

Jack saw his face flush as he spoke. There was no reason for Daniel to be that ashamed. "Never mind, the damage is done. Let's make sure Sam gets that… thing. Maybe she can figure out what it does." O'Neill was certain that the mechanism would give Major Samantha Carter hours, maybe even days of joy in figuring out the technical details.

Jack O'Neill, of course, got stuck with the interrogation—again. For once, paperwork proved to be worth it, as there were a whole lot of interesting facts connected with the name "Jack Harkness" who held the rank of "Captain." The wait for the captive to sober up provided Colonel Jack O'Neill with ample time to go through all the information again.

Aside from the report of about a year ago, which he himself had filed, there was a report of a Captain Harkness who had gone missing in action in the trenches in World War One. Then, some twenty years later, there were reports from both London and Berlin that mentioned an American volunteer, again named Jack Harkness. This individual had appeared and disappeared sporadically all throughout World War Two. There were photographs with the latter reports, and O'Neill thought the man must have been an ancestor of his prisoner. In fact, they looked so much alike, they could be twins. Talk about a strong family resemblance.

Then he started looking through the US military records. Korea, reportedly killed in action in 1952. Vietnam, 1967, missing in action. Then, Jack recognized the man personally from a Special Forces operation in 1988. He even had a sneaking suspicion that the incident had something to do with his promotion to Major soon after. There was no paperwork on that incident—at least, not that he was permitted to see. It would probably have made a good episode of the X-Files. Even more interestingly, Harkness'fingerprints, taken the last time he was captured, matched those found after an unexplained Gate activation on the planet P2T-112 in 1998. The collective files made up an impressive pile.

When Jack walked into the cell where Jack Harkness was being held, the other man looked up for maybe a fraction of a second, then resumed staring at the floor. This was odd, O'Neill thought. Even though Harkness had not been forthcoming about himself before, he had been gregarious to the point of exasperation, talking, laughing and joking with anyone in sight. From Daniel's report, he had been just as expansive while drunk. Very likely he was still considerably hung over, which would serve him right.

Harkness was seated on the bunk. O'Neill studied him a moment before he took the chair that was next to the table in the room. He threw a glance back at the Marine keeping guard near the door and returned his attention to the silent man across the room.

That whole tableau held for about half a minute. Then, completely ignoring the other two people in the room, Jack Harknessstretched himself out on the bunk and closed his eyes.

Colonel O'Neill sighed. This was getting ridiculous. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"I've been in worse places." Harkness replied, then sniffed his own shirt and said: "A shower wouldn't have hurt, though."

"Last time we did that you skipped town on us."

For a fraction of a second a grin appeared on the Captain's face. It was gone again as quickly as it appeared. "That's not going to happen again."

"No? Good. Then maybe this time we can discuss who you are."

"Jack Harkness—" Harkness started, only to be cut off by O'Neill who finished the reply.

"Captain, 4553610-S-57-C-5124. Yes, we got that last time. Maybe you want to tell me—"

O'Neill lifted the large stack of files from the desktop and let them fall again. They would have made a resounding thump, had they stayed together. Instead, the files shifted, slid and then fell over, dropping to the floor and shedding any loose items from inside. Jack cursed, then finished his question, "Which of all these Captain Harknesses is you?"

O'Neill started to gather together the files again. Harkness idly turned his head to look. One of the papers that had fallen out of a file must have caught his interest, because he suddenly twisted and grabbed for it. He never got as far as picking it up, though, because the guard pulled his gun and aimed it at the Captain, who froze.

Colonel O'Neill picked up the paper that Harkness had been trying to reach. It was part of the British from the Second World War. Attached to the paper was the only photograph in that file. It showed two men, who were clearly close friends. One was dressed in a British Army uniform, the other, an obvious ancestor of the current Captain Harkness, was in RAF gear.

"Never got to see granddad before?" O'Neill asked.

The answer was silence. Harkness wasn't going to get anywhere today, Jack thought and scraped together the ruins of his files before leaving.

The same scenario played out over and over, day after day, one interrogator after another. The prisoner would give no information other than his name, rank, and serial number. Not even Teal'c's interrogation technique—stare at them until they talk—had worked. When he was not under interrogation, Harkness seemed to spend his time either lying on his bunk, or engaged in some occasional improvised physical exercise. Surprisingly, he turned out to be an avid reader, initially requesting Charles Dickens, but when that was unavailable, settling for Douglas Adams.

Colonel O'Neill was getting frustrated by the lack of progress. After all, they couldn't keep the man locked up here forever. Stargate Command's supposed colleague but also frequent rival, the NID, were already salivating to get their hands on this prisoner and his toys. After all, he had been arrested on an alien planet and could well have knowledge of technologies that not even the SGC _or_ the NID had gotten their hands on.

O'Neill already knew for a fact that Captain Harkness had knowledge and access to a considerable amount of unfamiliar technologies. The way he had escaped captivity the first time meant that someone or something had teleported him away. Also, according to Sam and the techniciansa great deal of the…vehicle he had with him on Abydos consisted of similar systems to those used in the transport rings or, indeed, the Stargate itself. But beyond the question of where he had gotten his hands on _those _particular toys, there was the bigger question surrounding the other components. They were of a design that none of the technicians had seen before, and as to their function… That was anybody's guess.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue

**2001, Earth, United States, Colorado**

So here he was again, O'Neill thought, probably for another fruitless interrogation session.

Harkness closed the book he was reading as soon as Colonel O'Neill entered the room. The one thing that had improved slightly had been the Captain's attitude. Again, it was casually polite, although the cheerful arrogance that had been so characteristic before was still nowhere to be seen.

Jack sat down at the desk. Harkness sat up on the bed. It was almost a tradition, now.

"So."

"So."

And the silence stretched…

"So, what are we going to do with you?" asked Jack.

"You couldn't just let me go, I suppose?" Harkness' mouth twitched into a faint approximation of a smile. Then he looked down. "Never hurts to ask."

"Where would you go? It's not like you have any family out there."

This remark made the Captain look up. "What makes you say that?"

By this time, the files were unnecessary. O'Neill had looked through themsooften that he had memorized all the important parts, as well as the interesting ones. He reflected on the fact that he had a stack of files relating to dozens of different Jack Harknesses, not one of whom was supposed to be alive today. Well, the MIA from Vietnam _might_ be, if he really had been missing and not killed. But that would make the man sitting in front of him a lot older. In his late fifties not his late thirties.

"Because, according to the files—" Jack broke off, asking the question he _really _wanted answered. "How come you don't age?"

That question caused a frown to appear on the Captain's face. "You want to run that by me again?"

"I saw you before. A long time ago. You don't look any different now than you did then.

"Colonel, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

"You and two others." Suddenly, O'Neill had Harkness' full attention, his blue eyes now enormous and fixed on the officer's face.

"Who?" asked the Captain in reply. He was trying to sound innocent, but failing miserably.

_Hah!_ O'Neill thought triumphantly, so he _had_ been pretending to be ignorant of the incident. Finally, a breakthrough. He resisted the urge to smile—almost. "Gotcha. Now how about you start…?"

The Captain was on his feet and closing in on Jack. There was almost a hint of desperation in the way he was approaching. Or was it malice? "Who, Colonel?" he demanded. "Who were the other two people?"

O'Neill got to his feet as well. He was not about to be caught sitting down. The guard near the door started to draw his weapon. The Colonel waved a hand, indicating that the guard hold his position. It was all too obvious that he had finally gotten through to Jack Harkness, and this wasn't an opportunity to waste. "A couple of Brits. A blonde girl, and a tall guy with dark hair. There was this sort of blue box--"

O'Neill was interrupted by Harkness' cry of triumph. Colonel O'Neill just caught a glimpse of the familiar huge grin before two hands seized either side of his face and he was on the receiving end of a kiss, full on the lips. There might have been a little tongue in it, too, but he was too stunned to notice.

Old combat instincts rose to the surface. Jack brought his hands up, then apart, forcing Harkness' grip open. As soon as he got a little room, he punched the other man's sternum, taking his breath away and propelling him backwards. The guard now jumped in, sidearm drawn, and kicked the Captain's legs out from under him. Then he put his boot in between Harkness's shoulder blades to keep him down and aimed the pistol at the Captain's head.

Harkness did not struggle any further. He stayed down, fighting for breath. It did not seem to affect the happy expression on his face. When he could speak again, he managed to surprise the Colonel with his words.

"My apologies, Colonel. I got carried away. But thank you."

Jack was already halfway out the door, too shocked to continue the interview. He turned upon hearing Harkness' remark. This statement screamed for some elaboration.

"For what?" O'Neill asked cautiously.

"Hope."

Damn. Now he _had_ to stay and listen. Somehow, he had gotten through Captain Jack Harkness' impregnable shell. O'Neill returned to his seat at the desk. "What were you doing here?" he asked. "Who were those people?"

The guard removed his foot to let Harkness up. He still kept his sidearm aimed at the Captain, who did nothing more than retake his seat on the bunk.

"I don't know what I was doing, Colonel. I haven't done it yet. But those two people are friends of mine. I've been searching for them in the biggest haystack imaginable." He paused a moment, leaning back against the wall. "No…bigger, actually."

"Oh, yeah? How big?"

"All of time and space," came the grandiose reply. "Or…London at some point after 2006. I don't know which is harder. But if you've seen me with them, that means I'm going to find them."

"You've lost me."

Harkness laughed. He seemed genuinely amused by this. O'Neill on the other hand, was not. "I'm glad you think this is funny," the Colonel said, not trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

The Captain stopped laughing, but was unable to hide his amusement. "Sorry. I don't suppose you see the humor in it." Then he made an attempt to become more serious. He closed his eyes, leaned back, and drew a deep breath as he collected his thoughts. "Okay. You obviously know how to work a Stargate. But, do you know _how_ it works?"

"I don't. But I've got people who do."

"In general terms."

"You go in on one end, you come out the other."

"Yes. The Gates form a sort of tunnel that takes you through space, right?" Harkness paused, waited for Jack to reply, or at least nod, which he did.

"That tunnel can take you through time, too," Harkness said, surprising O'Neill. "If you have the right equipment, that is."

The Colonel groaned inwardly and sat back in his chair. Oh God, not this again! He had already seen all sorts of trouble involving time around the Gate. Hell, he had even traveled back in time himself. But that wasn't exactly what one would call reliable. "Been there, done that. About a thousand times over. I don't feel a particular need to relive Groundhog Day again."

"Groundhog Day?" The Captain gave him a puzzled look only to laugh again. "Oh, a time loop. No, nothing like that. Actually, the Stargates aren't really designed for time travel. They have too many limitations on where you can enter and exit. But if you can get into one of those 'tunnels' and exit another way, then you can travel in time. After all, time is just another point on the map."

"And you have a ship that can do that?" O'Neill asked, not yet willing to believe him. Surely he didn't mean that hodgepodge of technology they'd found with him. The one he'd escaped in the first time probably could have done something like that…maybe. But not the scrap pile he was using now.

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

Harkness nodded, the familiar smirk blossoming on his features, bringing back the movie-star look. He had become more animated during this conversation than in any other over the past several days. Without preamble, he launched into a detailed explanation of the files Colonel O'Neill had on him, going on to include a few stories that had not made it into the files. The Napoleonic War, the American Civil War, the Boer War, and a few that the listening Jack had never heard of.

As the man on the bunk told his stories, the Colonel wondered if the man were a lunatic who actually believed he had done all these things, or… It was the "or"that O'Neill had difficulty getting his head around. That he was telling the truth. Jack was jolted from these thoughts when the man across the room asked, "_Now_ do you believe me?"

O'Neill checked his watch and was startled to see how much time had passed. The stories had taken up much more time than he realized. Now he was going to be late for his briefing with Sam and the base techs about what they had learned about Harkness' goodies. "Yeah, I'll believe it. Now, I got to go. Are you going to be this talkative when I come back?"

Captain Harkness shrugged. "I've got nothing to lose anymore, do I?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine, never will be. Please don't sue

**2001, Earth, United States, Colorado**

To Colonel O Neill's relief, the briefing was pretty much routine. The technicians had figured out most of the side technologies on Captain Jack's gadget in the first few days, but had been unable to identify the function of the central components. Harkness had not been entirely stupid, either. He had disconnected several components when he stashed his craft and even the cream of the Air Force's science and engineering departments could not figure out how to reconnect them.

Jack's newest information about Captain Harkness was met with more than a little incredulity. But this did not stop the team of technicians from extrapolating numerous theories about the technology that they _had_ largely deciphered already. After an hour, Colonel O'Neil left the "experts" to it.

Jack was still uncertain how the two people he had mentioned had caused the nearly one hundred eighty degree turn in Captain Harkness' attitude, not that he was complaining. His prisoner was generally cooperative, only occasionally refusing to give more detailed information, and his cooperation did yield him greater freedom, which he seemed to use to become acquainted with everyone on the base. He seemed particularly interested in Sam, who had started to accompany Jack during the interrogation sessions in order to ask questions about the Captain's ship.

It did not take long before Jack Harkness had Sam wound round his little finger. The third visit, in fact. Unlike Colonel O'Neill, who zoned out every time the techno-babble got too much, Harkness not only seemed able to keep up with Sam, but sometimes he actually got ahead of her. Every time he did this, he would grin innocently and Sam had to struggle to keep up. One thing that Sam did not seem to notice, but what O'Neill did, was that Harkness had his mind on more than just talking shop. It wasn't anything that Jack could put his finger on. Just the little glances here, the ways his grin seemed to widen_ just_ that little bit more…

Come to think of it, there was nothing new here. The man had done the same to the nurses the first time around. He seemed to live to flirt.

Despite Harkness' apparent cooperation, the team was still no further in understanding his craft. Eventually, the frustrated Sam pointed out that unless they allowed the Captain access to the device so he could demonstrate its workings, they would never understand it. She did not have to argue too much. Colonel O'Neill and General Hammond, the base commander, were getting just as frustrated with the lack of progress. Hammond was also getting tired of trying to keep the NID away from the prisoner and his ship.

An armed escort brought Harkness into the tech bay. An armed guard had actually become a rarity and alerted the Captain that he was entering a restricted area. Not surprisingly, he took charge immediately, and started issuing instructions and requesting all sorts of tools. No one questioned him until he asked for a small gadget that the technicians had identified as a combination scanner and computer. He stated simply that it was needed to activate the apparatus. Once he had everything he had requested, he stepped towards the mass of components that had once been his "ship." He picked up a large board that was shaped somewhat like a curved trapezoid. One side was entirely flat and covered with something resembling circuitry, although no one had the vaguest idea how to go about accessing it. The other side had four round bulges or knobs set two by two. One of the younger technicians asked jokingly if it were an intergalactic snowboard, to which Harkness merely smiled.

"Everybody wants to know what this does, right?" Harkness asked, a broad smile coming to his face when he saw a few heads nodding in reply. He picked up a number of wires, connected them to the board and then moved away, positioning himself fractionally closer to the door. "Well, this is…" He paused dramatically, obviously enjoying the tension that was building in the room. With a twinkle in his eye, he continued, "A tribophysical waveform macrokinetic extrapolator." he paused again, his grin widening at the sight of the blank faces looking back at him. He winked at the technician who had joked earlier, adding, "Or, in Californian terms, an intergalactic surfboard. Close, but no cigar." He took another step back towards the exit, alerting some of the guards who were already getting suspicious. "On this thing," the Captain went on amiably, "you can program coordinates for anywhere in space and time. Then all you have to do is find a way to get between dimensions, and 'boom' you're there."

Captain Harkness paused again, looking as if he were waiting for applause. O'Neill could see the obvious question of, "But how?" forming on the lips of anyone who had understood even half of that gobbledygook.

Before anyone could actually _ask_ any questions, however, Harkness continued, "But, it does something else, too." He paused to plug in another wire, glancing up at his enthralled audience. "Everybody watching closely?" He then activated something with the scanner gadget that he had attached to his wrist."See, when I do this, it projects a force field so powerful that not even a Dalek death ray can get through. So…" He turned and vanished through the exit, running full pelt down the corridor to the Gateroom. He was halfway there before the thunderstruck guards finally gave chase. The occupants of the room he had just bolted from heard the echoing call of "Bye!" from out in the corridor.

The guards soon learned that shooting at the fleeing figure had no effect. There was indeed a forcefield surrounding him. They might as well be shooting peas at an elephant for all the good it was doing them.

The alert was raised and alarms immediately sounded all over the Base. By the time the crew at the Gate room activated the safeguards, Harkness was already there, having run into a guard on the way and relieved him of his weapons. Armed with this sufficient, if antiquated, firepower, he took one of the Gate crew hostage, coercing the others into opening the Gate.

He stood watching the enormous ring as the men in the control room dialed up his destination. The moment the Gate opened, its center shimmering like a calm pool of water, he released his hostage, saluted the men in the control room and then jumped straight in, apparently unconcerned that the crew had sent him back to the same planet where he had been arrested.

When the SG-1 team followed their escaped prisoner through the Gate to Abydos, they learned the reason for his lack of concern. He was not there…

**--**

**Some time, some place (1998, P2T-112)**

Gate surfing was not all that hard once you got the hang of it. In many ways, it was actually safer than the machine Captain Jack had rigged up on Satellite 5. Unfortunately, using just the extrapolator severely limited his search for the Doctor. He could not break out of the vortex on his own and was limited to planets with a functioning Stargate. He could move backward and forward in time, but was seriously restricted when it came to space.

He was forced to abandon the Earth as a future landing site. That Stargate was buried under several thousand tons of rubble in the past and in the hands of the American military in the future. Then there was the fact that he had already escaped from the Americans twice. He doubted they would be all that pleased to see him a third time. Especially after the stunt he just pulled to make his second escape. Ancient Egypt, the one period where the Earth Stargate might be open and available to him, was also not a viable option, as he had no chance of getting to twenty-first century London from there while still alive. And the chances that the Doctor and Rose would ever visit the time period he did find himself in were miniscule at best.

Jack realized that he had to change his strategy. Instead of trying to find the Doctor and Rose somewhere in Real Time, he would try to find them in the space/time vortex. Once inside, time and distance acted differently—actually, they didn't exist in the linear terms. As he had told those on the base, you just jump in at one point and jump out at another. If he could send a signal that the TARDIS could pick up and lock on to, then he had a chance.

Jack considered his options. There were hundreds of civilizations out there that had developed more advanced communications technology than Earth, even the Earth that had built Satellite 5. Dozens more with signaling systems that could function in the interspatial vortex. The trick now, was finding one.

When he arrived as his current location, he believed he had struck gold. The planet was, at this point in time, deserted of intelligent life forms. There were ruins around the Gate from what must have been a highly advanced civilization. Jack found what looked like a communications console among the ruins, and he was happily stripping it of all salvageable components. He looked over the transmitter. It seemed to be intact and he stashed it into the safety of his backpack. Now he was trying to extract the components that would allow voice transmissions. These proved to be more difficult to remove intact, and he found himself wishing he had snagged a toolbox from one of his other destinations. He was finally making some headway when he heard a noise and looked up. What he saw made his eyes grow wide in disbelief.

_Oh, no_. "Not you again."

Even at this distance, the graying hair and weathered face of Colonel O'Neill were unmistakable, _Right! No more lounging around. Time to get the hell out of here_. Jack looked around himself, realizing they were probably trying to surround him. _Okay, where's the gap? There always is one._ He found it and made straight for it. His legs had gotten a lot of exercise during the time he traveled alone, and not just from keeping him on the extrapolator. Not every planet he had landed on was empty of people, and they tended not to be friendly. To ensure that the ruins had indeed been abandoned, he had already explored much of the surrounding territory here. It seemed a good bet that the Stargate team had just arrived, which would give him a sizeable advantage.

Jack was able to avoid the team for about an hour, during which time he fiddled with the transmitter. At least he would be able to send a signal in the vortex.

When Captain Jack finally managed to sneak around his pursuers and get to the Gate, he found it unguarded.

"Sloppy," he said, shaking his head. He activated the Gate, jumped on the extrapolator, and vanished into the vortex.

**--**

**1988, Earth, United States, Montana.**

The Doctor was never afraid to take on an alien invasion single-handedly. Most times he would enlist whoever was standing around to help, whether they were willing or not. But sometimes, just occasionally, there was nothing else for it but enlist the help of an honest-to-God government. Although, admittedly, it was usually the other way around. UNIT, the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, had been only too happy with the Doctor's assistance. Well…most of the time.

But now, the Doctor required their help. UNIT had gotten stuck in a quagmire of bureaucracy. The American branch was nowhere near as powerful as the European agency, and for what the Doctor wanted, the United States military needed to to be alerted. In Europe, cooperation between UNIT and the respective militaries usually went smoothly. The United States, however, were under the general impression that they could handle intelligence just fine, thanks, and didn't need the UN to do it for them. And to have the UN giving orders to American soldiers on American soil? (Well, the soldiers' response to this was not repeatable in polite company.)

All of this just compounded the problem and meant a lot of frustration for the Doctor. Regeneration might have given him a much younger face and a more flamboyant dress sense, but had done nothing to soften his attitude towards any sort of bureaucracy. It ensured ever more derisive behavior from him and less willingness for cooperation from the officials. Captain Jack, as the apparent American in the Doctor's party, acted as a go-between and had the misfortune to get the full blast of disapproval from both sides. Eventually, finally, everything was taken care of and both sides were happy, more or less. Three squads of troops would guard the area the Doctor had designated. The Doctor and his "associates" would be allowed to go in and do whatever it was that they had to do.

Of course, when they arrived at the scene in the TARDIS, there was yet another batch of high-ranking officers who wanted to know the exact ins and outs of the situation. The Doctor, now entirely fed up with the red tape, repeated his instructions to the officers before striding off, taking Rose with him. Jack wanted to follow as well, but was detained by the commanding officer. After listening to the man's entire tirade, he hurried after the Doctor and Rose, who were already some distance away.

Just when he was catching up, Jack was stopped _again_. This time by an officer, a Captain by his insignia, and he, too, was fishing for information. _Great._ _Just great, just what I need, more delays._ Then the annoyed Captain Jack finally looked at the officer properly, and blinked. He read the Captain's nametag: O'Neill. He looked at the man's face again. He felt the classic Jack Harkness grin blossoming on his face. _Captain Jack meets Captain Jack,_ he thought, his grin growing wider.

So, _this_ is where it started with the Colonel he couldn't seem to shake, Jack realised. The two of them really did seem destined to meet over and over again. _Well, old buddy Jack was in for a few surprises in the coming years. Why not impart a bit of good advice?_ He wrapped an arm around the startled Captain O'Neill's shoulders.

"What you do, Jack…."


End file.
